


A Chosen One and a Malfoy

by amw53



Series: Draco Malfoy Wore Gloves [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 05:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17861240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amw53/pseuds/amw53
Summary: "Still, nothing can truly prepare you for being the chosen one and finding out your soulmate is a Malfoy."After fleeing Malfoy Manor together, Harry brings a battered Draco to the Burrow. Will the two find more common ground than just being soulmates? How can Harry reconcile the son of Lucius Malfoy with the boy who wears his soulmate mark?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Your birthday isn't for another two weeks but since this turned into a multi chapter fic, I figured I'd post the first chapter early! Happy birthday to my best friend Kira! Thanks for inspiring this fic- it is dedicated and gifted to you!

If you had told Harry three months ago he’d be dragging a bloodied Draco Malfoy to the Burrow, he’d have laughed in your face. However, Harry currently found it a bit difficult to laugh and heave a limp body over his shoulder at the same time. Harry suspected the last of Draco’s little strength went into Apparating- he’d all but collapsed as they vanished with a puff of smoke. The events of the last hour played over and over in his mind: Draco sneaking him out of the basement of Malfoy Manor, Draco’s face when his father caught them, Draco throwing himself in front of Harry when Lucius attempted to curse him.

But Harry couldn’t forget that Draco was a Malfoy.

A Malfoy who saved his life.

A Malfoy who was his soulmate.

Harry never seemed to mind having his soulmate mark on his back, until now. It irritated him to no end that all Draco had to do was look at his hand and he’d know what Harry was thinking, while Harry would have to find a mirror and try to read the fleeting words on his back. What Harry wouldn’t give to know what thoughts ran through Draco’s mind as he dosed in and out of consciousness, head lolling around. What did Draco think of being Harry Potter’s soulmate? The way Draco spoke of him, Harry got the impression he’d been fed a whole lot of nonsense when it came to who Harry was and what he stood for. Those ideas, idiotic ideas he’d been force fed his whole life, wouldn’t go away overnight.

And what about Harry’s own ideas? The Malfoys and Blacks were known for being Voldemort’s first in line. Sure, Sirius hadn’t been like the rest, but he had been the exception, not the rule. Thinking of his godfather, Harry felt his exhaustion take over his body. Still, he couldn’t stop. He was almost to the Burrow- almost to home. He had to keep going.

As Harry stumbled upon the Burrow’s property, still half-dragging, half- carrying Draco, he saw Molly come bolting out the door through blurry eyes.

“He’s back! Come out, he’s back!” she screamed at the house, frantic and already beginning to cry. “My boy!”

Harry tried to say, “He needs help. He’s hurt.”, however he’s not sure how much actually came out before he fell to the ground.

-

Harry came to at the touch of a cold towel draped across his forehead. He sat straight up, scared for a moment that the last 24 hours were just a dream, half expecting to open his eyes and see the cold, dank walls of that dreaded basement. Instead, he was surprised and relieved to feel two pairs of arms surround him instantaneously.

“Bloody hell, mate, don’t ever do that to us again.”

“Does anything hurt? Can I get you anything?”

The voices of his two best friends brought Harry to tears. How many times had he wondered if he’d ever hear them again? He felt foreign tears brush his face, unaware if they belonged to Ron or Hermione. When they finally released him, he was surprised to see them both sporting tear-stained faces of their own.

“I’ll bet we look like a load of lunatics.” Ron grinned, wiping away the evidence.

“I didn’t-” Harry’s voice was hoarse, “I didn’t know if I’d ever be back here. Seeing you two again.”

“I’m so glad you are.” Hermione gripped Harry’s hand as if she feared he might run away, smiling ear to ear through sobs.

“So… what happened? We can talk about it later but I am kind of curious what that weasel-faced twink is doing in my house.”

“Ronald! Let Harry rest!” Hermione pulled Ron up and began pushing him out the door.

“Wait-” Harry could already feel his ears turning red, “I’ve been alone a lot lately and I don’t exactly know when I’ll want to be alone again.” Spending weeks alone in that basement- never really knowing when he’d see another person again- Harry was in no hurry to relive any of that.

Hermione blushed furiously, “Of course. I didn’t even think of that.” Uncomfortable silence began to fill the room before Hermione interrupted it. “Ron, stay here and don’t ask any unnecessary questions. Your mother made food so I’ll bring it up with some tea.”

The door closed and Ron immediately asked again, “So? What’s going on? Normally I’d let it go, but he looks an awful lot like a Malfoy.”

Harry sighed deeply, “That’s because he is.”

“ _What_?! Harry, you brought a _Malfoy_ , _here_?”

“Would you rather me leave him to die?”

“Honestly?” Ron scoffed, “Yeah. He’s one of Voldemort’s lackeys, he wants to kill people like Hermione!”

“He saved my life.” Harry said simply. “I promise I’ll tell you more later, but he’s not like them. I’m just…” Harry yawned, “tired. It’s been a long past few weeks.”

“Okay, okay, fine, conversation tabled.” Ron absentmindedly looked at his forearm and read, “’He better not be asking anything unnecessary,’ blimey, she’s not got no faith in me whatsoever!”

“To be fair, you _were_ asking something unnecessary.” Harry grinned.

“Don’t be a git.” Ron’s smile spread as he wrapped Harry in a hug. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” And Harry had. Sitting in the Burrow, talking with Ron and waiting for Hermione, Harry felt more prepared to deal with his current situation than he had the past few days. Still, nothing can truly prepare you for being the chosen one and finding out your soulmate is a Malfoy.

-

After filling his stomach and spending some more time talking to Ron and Hermione, Harry decided it was probably time to deal with the issue at hand. Hermione told him Draco was in Bill and Charlie’s old room, and Harry set off to see how the other boy was doing. He knocked on the door before opening it. Ginny sat in the armchair across from the bed Draco slept in, leafing through a copy of the Quibbler. She looked up upon hearing the door move and leapt up to give Harry a hug.

“I almost didn’t believe Mum when she said you were here.” 

Harry put an arm around her and squeezed. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Mum asked me stick around in case he woke up and needed something.”

“Nothing yet?” Harry quirked an eyebrow.

“Not yet.” Ginny shrugged. “He wasn’t in great shape, he may be asleep for a while longer.”

“Do you know what’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“Mum said he’s got a broken rib, lots of bruising too. He’ll be fine, but I’d bet it hurts a load.”

“Well, I’ll take your shift.” Harry jerked his head towards the door. “Go ahead, I’ll stay.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t you be resting too?” Ginny looked at him incredulously.

“I’m fine. Anyway, once he wakes up, we need to… talk.” Harry hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Fine, have it your way. But if Mum asks, you forced me to leave.” Ginny sighed. “She said he’ll probably want to ice his ribs when he wakes up, for the pain. She left a pack on the nightstand.”

Ginny closed the door, perhaps with a little too much gusto because, soon after, Draco’s eyes fluttered open.

“Where- where am I?” Draco rubbed his eyes before blinking in pain, hands running to his ribcage.

“You’re safe. Does it hurt? Your ribs?” Harry asked.

“Yeah-” Draco took a sharp breath in, accompanied by “Bloody fucking hell!”

“You’ll want to breathe slowly. Breathing in all fast like that will only make it worse.” Harry chided. “Take off your shirt.”

Draco took another sharp breath in, keeping the cursing to a minimum this time. “Excuse me?”

“We need to ice it. It’ll feel better. Don’t be stubborn.” Harry all but rolled his eyes as Draco reluctantly pulled his short over his head. “ _Fuck_.”

“What?” Draco tried grinning through the pain. “I’m that good looking?”

“No, you look like a fucking mess.” Harry wasn’t lying. A black bruise had already formed over where Draco had undoubtedly broken a rib. Bandaged cuts were scattered over his chest, shoulders, and arms.

“You sure know how to make a guy feel special.” Draco mumbled as Harry grabbed the ice pack Molly had left on the nightstand. Draco took yet another sharp breath as Harry pressed the ice pack to his side, sitting on the bed with him.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop doing that?”

Draco looked down at his chest, covered in bandages. “Did that red-headed woman do this?”

“You remember?” Harry met Draco’s eyes.

“A little, not much.” Draco revealed sheepishly.

“You know who she is?” Harry asked.

“Why, should I?” Draco queried.

“That,” Harry stated, “was Molly Weasley.”

Draco looked like he was about to choke on his own saliva. “You mean the nice lady that bandaged me up and made me drink hot soup was Molly Weasley? Hater and eradicator of purebloods?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that’s a load of horseshit? You’re actually at her house right now.” Harry applied more direct pressure to Draco’s side and smirked at the way Draco grimaced but clearly focused on controlling his breathing.

“I can’t believe you brought me here.” Draco looked like he might pass out, however if it was from the pain or being in the Weasleys’ home was anybody’s guess.

“Where else would I bring you? I live here.” Harry looked out the window absentmindedly. “They’re my family.”

“You and- you and the daughter. Everyone- my father- always said-” Harry had an idea of what Draco was stuttering about but decided to play dumb and watch him squirm a little more.

“What about me and Ginny?”

“You’re- I mean I was told that you were- are? Dating.” Draco’s face was so red, he could’ve passed for a Weasley himself.

“Was that really so hard to say?”

“You’re evil.”

“Says the Deatheater.”

“ _Ex_ -Deatheater. Anyway…” Draco looked down shyly. “Is it true?”

Harry said, “Nah, not even a little. She’s like a sister to me, like Hermione. Why?” Harry thought he’d have a little more fun torturing Draco in the meantime. “Jealous?”

“Of course not! Why would I- that’s just ridiculous. I barely know you.” Draco aggressively avoided eye contact.

“But you still risked your life to save me.” Harry purposefully met Draco’s eyes. “You went against your family. I have to thank you for that.”

“It’s nothing. I needed some good karma, that’s all.” Draco frowned slightly. “I’ve got years of evil-doing to make up for, remember?”

“Right.” Harry shifted. “Anyway, us non-evil people usually say ‘you’re welcome’.”

“…”

“What was that?”

“You’re welcome.” Draco mumbled before grabbing the blanket that laid over him and pulling it over his face.

Harry smirked. “That’s what I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three days since Harry dragged Draco to the Burrow and three days since a battered Draco had left his bed. During the aftermath, Harry was dealing with an influx of visitors, letters, and the like. Unsurprisingly, the return of the prodigal son of the late James and Lily Potter made waves through the Order of the Phoenix and their allies. Harry and Ron were playing wizard’s chess in the living room when Hermione dropped another stack of letters in front of him.

“Seems like Neville and Dean have written now.” Hermione mused.

“Anything from Dumbledore?” Harry hadn’t heard from the old man since he’d been back, a surprise to everyone.

“I’m afraid not.” Hermione and Ron exchanged worried looks. It just didn’t seem normal the single most respected, second most feared wizard this side of Europe wouldn’t come check up on his favorite, or, perhaps, his most useful, young wizard. “But I’m certain it’s just a matter of time.”

“I reckon she’s right.” Ron interjected, “Dumbledore wouldn’t just hang you out to dry.”

“I guess not.” Harry distractedly ordered his chess piece to move, leading to,

“Check mate.” Ron sat back, satisfied. 

Harry and Ron felt Hermione shift and looked up to find her staring at the doorway. At the end of her line of sight stood none other than Draco Malfoy. Ron quickly stood; Harry couldn’t help but notice how he stood ever so slightly in front of Hermione, his hand hovering over his wand.

“You’re up.” Harry stated plainly. He was surprised to see the other boy outside of Bill and Charlie’s old room.

“It appears so.” Draco’s eyes flickered from Hermione to Ron, and then back again.

In a moment of boldness, Hermione stepped forward, edging out of Ron’s shadow, “Hello.”

Draco stared blankly for a moment. “Hello.”

Harry fumbled through his words, “Um, Draco, this is Hermione and that’s Ron. Ron, Hermione, this is Draco.” Ron remained silent, but Harry thought he saw his head nod slightly. The air was thick and uncomfortable. “He,” Harry swallowed hard, wondering how he could tell the truth without telling the _whole_ truth, “he saved my life.” He dared to make eye contact with Draco, only to find Draco’s eyes roaming the ground, cheeks tinted pink.

Ron walked up to Draco, looked him up and down from head to toe. For a moment, Harry was afraid Ron might hit him, but to his great surprise, Ron simply said, “Thank you.”

Hermione joined Ron, “Really, thank you. It was… impossibly hard,” Ron’s hand found hers and squeezed, “… not knowing where he was, not knowing when he’d be back… who he was with… so thank you. For saving him.”

Harry’s eyes roamed Draco’s awestruck face. Had he ever been thanked before? By anyone?

“Do you want to, uh, sit down?” Ron awkwardly gestured to the couch.

“Oh, um, sure.” Draco, at a loss for words, took a seat, completely taken aback. The other three found seats themselves, all four of them silently screaming for a distraction. “Your house is very… comfortable.” Draco attempted.

Ron eyed him. “I’d reckon that’s a compliment?" 

“Ron, leave him be.” Hermione chastised.

“What? I just wanted some clarification is all!” Ron yelped in protest.

“It is a compliment.” Draco responded.

Ron cleared his throat. “So… you play quidditch?”

-

Ginny and Ron ended up beating Draco and Harry, while Hermione sat on the sidelines with a book in hand.

“You’re not bad!” Ginny clapped Draco on the back.

“I honestly don’t think I’ve played since I was a child.” Harry thought he saw a hint of a smile. “I’m, uh, sure I’d be better if I was in… better shape.” Draco’s eyes flickered down, hand instinctively raising to his ribs.

“With some practice, you’d be halfway decent.” Ron commented, eyes continuing to appraise the reformed Death Eater. “Let’s get washed up.”

-

“Let me grab you a pair of clothes.” Harry shuffled through his drawers, searching for something that might fit the smaller wizard. “Here. They’re kind of old but anything newer would probably hang off you.”

Draco sniffed, “You calling me small, Potter?”

“I’m not calling you small, you _are_ small. Malfoy.” Harry snorted as he threw the shirt and pair of pants at Draco.

“You have a room here?” Draco sat on one of the two beds.

“Yeah. I used to share with Ron whenever I’d visit but all his brothers are out of the house now so I get my own.”

“There are… six of them?” Draco racked his mind for whatever he’d heard his family say about the Weasleys. Sure, most of it was probably lies but at least it was _something_.

“Seven, not including their parents.” Harry grabbed a framed photo off the nightstand, showing it to Draco. “The twins, those are Fred and George. This was their room. The room you’re staying in, was theirs,” Harry pointed out a tall, lanky man, with a scar covering what might’ve once been a handsome face, and a shorter, stouter man with old and new burns decorating his skin, “That’s Bill and Charlie, they’re the oldest. The one with the glasses is Percy, Hermione stays in his old room.”

Draco grabbed the photo, studying it. “So you both live here with them?” 

“Yeah.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “A couple years ago, it got too dangerous for us to keep going back home when school was out…”

 “Where is home for you?” Draco looked at Harry, catching his green eyes.

“Here. The Burrow has been home ever since I first came here when I was twelve. But where did I live before? A suburb, with my mom’s sister and her family.”

 “They were- they are muggles?” Hadn’t Lucius said something about Harry’s mother being a mudblo- a muggle-born?

“Yep. Not the nicest family, I’ve gotta say.” Harry pushed out a forced laugh. “Anyway, we really should be getting washed up. You stink.”

“You sure you’re not smelling yourself?” Draco fired back while simultaneously becoming extremely concerned about his own scent.

Harry laughed, shaking his head as he started to remove his shirt and Draco caught himself staring. Draco caught a glimpse of Harry’s back, revealing the words _Fuck, he looks good_ on his back _._ Draco quickly turned away, muttering, “Jesus.”

“Did you say something?” Harry turned, leaving Draco to sweep his eyes over his chest. The glimmer of sweat dancing on his chest made Draco feel things he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. Hundreds of thoughts flooded Draco’s mind, leaving Draco endlessly grateful no one else was in the room to see them.

“Nothing.” Draco hurriedly pulled his own shirt off, searching for something to cover himself up before his bath when suddenly, Harry walked over.

“What, do I need to get a mirror? Ask Ron to tell me what’s going on?” Harry gestured to his back.

“You wouldn’t.” Draco said, perhaps a little too quickly. He absentmindedly traced the bandage he’d secured around his hand- it hadn’t seemed right to have Harry’s inner thoughts at his disposal without his permission.

“Why do you say that?” Harry puffed, folding his arms over his chest.

“You haven’t told them.” Draco didn’t know for sure, but he was fairly certain the only other person who knew Harry Potter was his soulmate was Harry himself. Harry’s resulting silence told him he was correct.

“I will… eventually. It’s just… Hermione _is_ muggle-born. It’s been one thing, convincing them to let a known death eater stay in their house. It’s another to tell them their best friend’s _soulmate_ is a known death eater.” This was the first time either of them had directly and vocally addressed their soulmate status. Draco didn’t know whether to feel relieved or anxious by this recent development.

“She’s- she’s the mud- the muggle-born?”

“Watch it.” Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Especially around Ron. You make a slip like that, you’ll be out of the house and possibly dead. Well, not dead, but potentially seriously injured.”

“Sorry, it’s, uh, force of habit.” Draco watched Harry offer a small, sharp nod. “The two of them- Ron and Hermione- they’re soulmates too?”

“Yeah. We’d been friends for years before either of them realized. In school, they made us cover up our marks, didn’t want us getting distracted from our studies. It became kind of taboo to have them showing, I forgot about mine sometimes. The others probably did too.”

Harry started to leave before hearing Draco, voice small and uncertain, “They’re the first ones I’ve met.” Harry stopped and turned. “Soulmates, I mean.” Draco felt the color rush to his face.

“You mean… your parents?” Draco shook his head.

“I guess I always thought being with your soulmate was unattainable, only happened in stories. But I guess I was wrong.” Draco’s embarrassment rose and rose with each word, his stomach turned as he finally made his way out of the room. “Where can I take a bath?”

“Follow me.” Harry brushed past him, Draco’s stomach doing flips as their bare chests almost touched. Harry lead him down the hall to a plain bathroom. Draco couldn’t but hear Narcissa’s voice in his head, calling the decorating tacky; he pushed the voice out as Harry handed him a towel. “Let me know if you need anything, I guess.”

As Harry took a step out, Draco reflexively grabbed his arm. For a split moment, Draco wondered what Harry had looked like before his time in the basement of Malfoy Manor. He seemed to be an expert quidditch player earlier- Draco was sure if he had had literally anyone else as a partner, he would’ve won. Not eating for weeks and weeks had left Harry skinny- had he been toned before? Had muscle been replaced by empty space around his arms and stomach?

Realizing Harry’s arm was in his hand, he released. “Sorry.”

Harry turned around, eying him quizzically. “What’s up?”

“I haven’t had the chance to… to say thank you.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Harry smirked and Draco felt himself blush once more. _I probably look like one of those Weasleys right now_ , he thought, urging his face to return to its normal complexion.

“You didn’t have to… bring me here. You could’ve left me back at the Manor. And you didn’t. Or, you could’ve rescued me and then kicked me onto the streets. I wouldn’t have blamed you.” Draco stared at the ground, trying to avoid Harry’s honest eyes, the eyes that made him trust him, the eyes that made him betray his family and everything he’d ever known. Those eyes would surely see through Draco and the way he blushed like a young girl in love.

“Hey.” Harry nudged Draco, continuing once Draco looked up. “Muggles have this saying, you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. You saved me so I saved you.” Harry took a deep breath in before releasing it as a sigh. “Anyway, it’s not like I could leave you on the streets. A pampered boy like you? You wouldn’t last a night.” Harry smirked. Was he as aware of the lack of distance between the two of them as Draco was? Harry reached his hand to Draco’s head, affectionately mussing his hair, “Let me know if you need anything.” And with that, Harry left. 

Draco let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in. A shaky hand started running the bath while his mind raced a mile a minute. Here he was. At the Weasleys home. After playing quidditch with the two youngest and _Harry Potter_. The Harry Potter he was raised to hate and fear. The Harry Potter who was responsible for the blood rushing to his face. As well as other parts. Draco disrobed to find himself fully erect. If he could’ve buried himself alive right then, he might have. For now, he’d settle for a cold bath.

He eased himself into the water, hoping the temperature would dissuade his penis from standing at attention- he had no such luck. Reluctantly, he took himself in his hand. He stared at the ceiling tile and tugged. His mind wandered as he tried to deal with his current situation. The whole day had been a mindfuck. Harry introducing him to his best friends. Harry playing on his quidditch team. Harry’s shirt when it exposed his bellybutton as he dove for the snitch. Harry taking off his shirt. Harry’s chest. Harry’s arm in Draco’s hand. Harry’s hand on Draco’s head-

Draco hadn’t meant to think of him. But moments after he had, he exploded. After the realization settled in, Draco attempted to stifle a scream, then the scream turned into a cry. A cry of shame and embarrassment and fear and loneliness. He had never left Malfoy Manor before and here he was- in a _blood traitor’s_ house with a _mudblood_. Draco tried not to think these things, he really did, but Lucius’ voice was ever present.

 A knock pounded on the door. “Are you okay? I thought I heard something.”

 It was Harry. Draco pushed out an, “I’m fine. Stubbed my toe,” before submerging his head underwater. When he resurfaced, only one thought displayed across Harry’s back, even though no one was there to see it. _Harry Potter will be the death of me._

 


	3. Chapter 3

How does one talk to their soulmate? More specifically, how does someone talk to the person who kept them imprisoned for weeks on end before helping them escape, turning out to be their soulmate along the way? Harry’s brain hadn’t hurt this much since Hermione took it upon herself to teach him and Ron what she was learning in Ancient Runes.

Draco wasn’t… bad. At least Harry didn’t think so. He genuinely seemed to regret his past and want to atone but… 

“What’re you thinking so hard about, Potter?” The man in question interrupted his reverie. Harry had come outside to fly a bit, try to get his mind off things. However, he currently stood, broom in hand, intently thinking about the very person he was trying to forget about. “I wasn’t sure you thought at all.” Draco smirked, grabbing the broom from him.

“Very funny. How’re your ribs?” Harry poked him in the side, only feeling a little bad when he saw the other boy grimace. As Draco got his strength back, his barbs came back as well. Harry wasn’t afraid to fire back where it hurt- physically or verbally.

“They’re fine, thank you very much.” Draco shook the pain off. “So, really. What’re you doing out here?” 

“I’m flying.” Harry said dumbly.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Draco chuckled. “You look remarkably grounded.”

“What do you want, Malfoy? Do I need a constant reminder of the mistake I made, saving you?” Harry’s words may have been harsh but both boys knew he didn’t mean it. At least Harry knew, and he was fairly certain Draco knew too… before he saw Draco’s face falter momentarily. Just as he’d shaken the pain in his ribs off, Draco was back to normal in a matter of moments. Harry almost felt bad, which compelled him to say, “So? You want to ride or not?”

Draco turned pink. “Ex-excuse me?”

“The broom, genius.” Harry gestured at the broom Draco had taken from him, smirking. Draco was almost cute when he was embarrassed.

“I- I knew that.” Draco had a harder time shaking this one off, to Harry’s entertainment. “Well? Are you flying too or are you just going to stare at me with that daft look?”

-

“Here.” Harry handed Draco a glass of water. The two boys were drenched in sweat, having spent the morning flying in the summer heat.

“Thanks.” Harry took his own glass and, instead of drinking it, let it rain over his face and body.

“That hit the spot.” Harry glanced at Draco, to find he was already intently staring at him. Draco shook his head and averted his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” Draco shook his head again, as if he was trying to erase an Etch A Sketch in his mind. 

“I don’t think I’ve flown like that since… well, since my last quidditch match at school.” Harry shook his head, flinging water from his wet hair like a dog.

“When was that?”

Harry laid on the grass, looking at the sun for a moment before continuing. “Before the Death Eaters took over. Must’ve been a year and a half ago? Probably six months before we were supposed to graduate.”

Draco took an uneasy seat on the grass a few feet away from Harry. “Can I ask- what exactly happened?”

 Harry’s head perked up. “What do you mean?” He watched Draco’s face go red as he continued.

“What happened at Hogwarts? The Death Eaters taking over. I only know what I’ve heard and,” Draco cast his gaze downwards, looking shamed, “and I’m sure that’s probably not the truth.”

“Oh. Well, it started small. First, the Ministry of Magic ordered all students to register their blood status. We all had to go to the headmaster, Dumbledore, and provide proof of our blood status, whatever it was. That was the first sign Death Eaters were taking over the Ministry. Dumbledore tried rejecting the regulations but, well… they replaced him. Said it didn’t look good to have a half-blood as headmaster.” Harry took a deep sigh, willing himself not to relive the memories as he spoke of them. “Then they started separating us by blood status. Hermione, Ron, and I were all split up. Hermione being a muggle-born, me being a half-blood, and Ron being a pure-blood. With Dumbledore gone, it was like our last line of defense was gone. We knew it was only a matter of time before… anyway, all of us affiliated with the Order left during winter break and never came back. We’ve been working from out here ever since. How’s that line up with your version of things?”

Draco took in a sharp breath. “Oh, you mean how Dumbledore was ordering pure-bloods to do slave labor before the Death Eaters finally ended his reign of terror?”

Harry felt himself laugh despite himself. “You know what I always thought was so weird? How could you ever think you were the good guys with a name like ‘Death Eaters’? What name could sound more evil?” Draco’s face burned red, prompting Harry to show a moment of mercy. “Hey, Malfoy…” Draco glanced Harry, refusing to make eye contact. “Why don’t we go again? I’ve still got some flying left in me.”

-

 “You boys are ravenous today.” Hours later, Molly observed Harry and Draco absolutely devouring their lunch.

“They were having a pissing contest outside, didn’t you see them?” Ginny shot Harry a knowing look. “Racing and showing off.”

“I won.” Harry grumbled between large bites of shepherd’s pie.

“You have way more experience flying, it’d be shameful if you didn’t.” Draco grumbled back.

Harry heard the front door open, lifting his head to see Ron and Hermione nervously whispering as they stepped through the frame.

“Where’ve you been?” Harry asked through a mouthful of food. Upon a disapproving glance from Molly, he quickly swallowed. “Sorry.”

“We’ve… been to see Dumbledore.” Hermione stammered. Harry left his stomach churn. He still hadn’t heard from the man since his prison escape from Malfoy Manor. Why had he contacted Ron and Hermione and not him?

“So he’s okay?” Harry stared blankly.

“He’s fine… he wants to speak with you.” Ron looked as if the words that came out of his mouth were causing him a great deal of pain.

“Why didn’t he tell me himself? He could’ve sent an owl.”

 “He was probably worried about Death Eaters intercepting the mail.” Hermione meekly walked over to the table.

 “Okay? Why didn’t he apparate here? What about floo powder? A portkey?” Harry felt his face grow hot and red. What excuse could Albus have had- didn’t he care Harry was home safe?

 “He wanted us to… talk to you before he did.” Ron spit out the words. “He seems to think we’ll talk you into some convoluted plan-”

 “Ron, the plan being convoluted is for Harry to decide.” Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand. Ron and Hermione both looked pale, eyes darting back and forth between Harry and each other. “I told him I thought you should hear it from him.”

 “’Mione, you know it’s absolutely insane-” Ron began when Hermione cut him off.

 “He’ll be here any minute. He took my word for it- he’s coming to talk to you.” Holding Harry’s gaze looked like it physically pained her. “All I’m going to say is you don’t have to anything you don’t want to.”

 Ron put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Don’t let him talk you into it. I can’t lose you ag-”

 “That’s enough Ron.”

 “Way to be cryptic.” Harry remembered he, Ron, and Hermione weren’t the only people in the room when Ginny spoke up. Harry wheeled around, catching worry in the eyes of Molly, Ginny, and, surprisingly, Draco.

 “Ronald, what exactly is happening? I demand an explanation-” Molly’s words fell short upon hearing a telltale knock at the door. Harry glanced at the others- none seemed too eager to open the door. Though his legs felt like lead, he moved himself to the door, turning the knob to reveal a familiar face. A hundred years of life left wrinkles etched in his face, though his eyes had their ever present whimsical, if a little dangerous, gleam.

 “Harry, you look well.”

 “Headmaster-”

 “We both know I’m not a headmaster anymore.”

 Silence fell over the Burrow. It seemed even the birds flying overhead got the memo that this was a very serious moment, not to be interrupted.

 “Harry, dear, invite him in.” Harry was grateful for the false confidence in Molly’s voice. It was almost as if everything would be alright; though the tears welling in her eyes told him she feared everything would be all but alright.

 “Thank you Molly.” Albus Dumbledore walked inside. “Is that shepherd’s pie I smell?”

 Ron almost lunged forward, “Stop beating around the bush, you have something to say, just say it.”

 “Ronald-”

 “It’s quite alright, Molly, your son is correct.” Dumbledore looked around the room, eyes briefly settling on Draco. Harry wondered what was going through Draco’s head; how did his old headmaster match up to the great and terrible Albus Dumbledore he’d heard about his whole life? “Would you mind if I had the room with Harry?”

 The others mumbled halfheartedly before leaving the room. Harry caught Draco taking one last look while Hermione and Ron enveloped Harry in an awkward three-way hug.

 “You’ll know what to do.” Hermione whispered.

 “Stand your ground.” Ron muttered.

 And then there were two.

 “I was worried something happened when I didn’t hear from you.” Harry couldn’t conceal the edge in his voice.

 “My apologies, Harry. I’ve been… tied up.” Dumbledore took a seat, gesturing for Harry to do the same.

 “Funny choice of words. Considering I was literally tied up.” Harry sat down begrudgingly. “So, to what do I finally owe the pleasure? You have some master plan?”

 “I hear you brought home a guest.”

 There was no way Dumbledore could know the truth about him and Draco but Harry couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. “He saved my life.” He fired, defensively.

 “He may save it once more.” Dumbledore eyes twinkled knowingly.

 “Huh? What’re you talking about?” Harry’s eyes turned to slits.

 “I do have a plan. You would be doing me a great honor by listening to it, all of it, before giving me an answer.” Dumbledore reclined in his chair.

 Harry wanted to fire back, _oh yeah? You ignore me for weeks after I escape from certain death and now you want favors?_ But this was his old headmaster and, for better or worse, Harry loved and respected him. So instead, he said, “Okay.”

“Besides you, no one from the Order has ever been to Malfoy Manor and lived to tell the tale.” Dumbledore said his words slowly, as if he was choosing them carefully. This foreign cautiousness created a pit of anxiety deep in Harry’s stomach. “You have invaluable insight on how the fortress is run… and how it can be taken down.”

“I only ever saw the basement-” Harry stopped upon catching Dumbledore’s gaze, remembering his agreement to hear the old man out. “Sorry. Go on.”

“As you’ve said, you did only see the basement. However, we now have access to a person who has seen far, far more.” The pit grew, traveling to Harry’s chest. Draco. What did he want with Draco? “Malfoy Manor is near impossible to penetrate. All of our rescue missions have ended in fatalities. However… Voldemort wants you alive. Therefore, all of Malfoy Manor wants you alive. Would it not be an all too perfect situation for the Malfoys, were the prodigal son to return with the Boy Who Lived?”

Harry suddenly came down with a bad case of cottonmouth. He attempted to swallow before blurting, “You want Draco to take me back as a prisoner. And then you want me to tear the place apart from the inside out.” Harry took Dumbledore’s silence as affirmation. “You think this is the only way to get to Voldemort?”

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t even consider it.”

 Feeling as if his heart may beat out of his chest, Harry stated, “I’ll go alone.”

 Dumbledore shook his head knowingly, as if he expected this reaction. “Harry, that would be a suicide mission. How do you expect to take down the entire Death Eater army on your own, with knowledge of only one room in the entire Manor?”

 “He’s not going. I can’t- I won’t ask him to do that. What if he betrayed us?” Harry knew, or at least hoped, Draco would never betray him. However, he was desperate to get Dumbledore to reconsider.

 “I’ve found, in this case, the rewards outweigh the risks. Harry, if this works, we could see the war end. We could free all those under Death Eater control. Isn’t that what you want, what all of us in the Order want?”

 “And I’ll take on those risks. But I’m not taking them on for anyone else.” Harry rose to his feet, preparing to leave the room, when he heard a third voice.

 “I’ll do it.” Harry turned around to see Draco standing in the hallway.

 “Draco, you- you were listening?” Harry’s chest thumped louder and louder.

 “I’m sorry for eavesdropping. But I’ll do it. If it means taking down my father… and Vold- _him_ … I’ll do it.” Harry could see Draco’s small frame shake, no matter how hard he tried to look.

 “Well, Mr. Malfoy, I’m glad to hear that.” Dumbledore rose to his feet. “I suppose Harry will want to talk you out of it, so please be sure to send me an owl once it’s been sorted out.” Dumbledore put an arm on Harry’s shoulder, which Harry quickly shrugged off. “I trust you’ll make the right choice, Harry.” And with that, Albus Dumbledore was gone.

 Harry grabbed Draco’s arm and ordered, “We need to talk in private.”

 After dragging Draco to Bill and Charlie’s old room and locking the door, Harry let loose. “Draco, you’re not going. I’m going alone and that’s final.”

 “You heard what he said. I’m your only hope.” Draco gray eyes pierced Harry’s. “You’ll die without me.”

 “I’ll die _with_ you. The only magical knowledge you have, you learned from Lucius Malfoy. You really think he’d have taught you anything you could use against him? I’ll be so focused on keeping you alive that we’ll both be goners.”

 Draco advanced, “You can teach me more before we go. I may not be the best wizard but I know that house better than anyone, besides my parents. Just admit that you need me.”

 Harry couldn’t control his fury. When he grabbed Draco by the collar, pushing him against the wall, it was almost as if he was watching from outside his body, with no control over his own actions. “Why are you so eager to get yourself killed?”

 Draco kept his cool, despite the raven-haired boy’s grip on his shirt. “I could ask you the same question. What will it take for you to realize I’m not useless?” With mere inches between them, Harry looked at Draco’s lips while Draco absentmindedly bit his lower lip. Overcome with a desire he didn’t quite understand, Harry pushed himself away from Draco, releasing his hold on him.

 “I don’t think you’re useless. I do think you’re pretty fucking daft at this point, though.”

 Draco closed the space between the two of them. “Take me with you. You need me. What, the great Harry Potter is too good for help? You’re not too good to get yourself killed.”

 Harry hadn’t planned what happened next. He hadn’t planned to pin Draco against the wall once more. He certainly hadn’t planned to press his lips to his. He pulled away as quickly as he’d pushed forward. “I- I didn’t mean-”

 Harry stopped talking again. Mainly because Draco Malfoy’s tongue was in his mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! This chapter could've gone in many different directions but ultimately I'm happy with what I have. As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being away for so long! When life happens my writing suffers unfortunately but alas I am back! And it's time for some slutty times!

Narcissa pressed a small kiss to Draco’s forehead as she tucked him in bed.

“Mummy?” Naracissa’s platinum hair stood out against the dark drabness of Malfoy Manor. Her head cocked in Draco’s direction, eying her little boy.

“Yes, Draco?”

“Why do you put your mouth on my head like that?” Draco’s tiny hand rubbed at the place Narcissa’s lips had been.

“Well, Draco, it’s called a kiss. We do it to people we love. And Mummy loves you very much.” Narcissa placed another kiss on each cheek, leading to a giggle from Draco. The giggle died away as he sobered up.

“Father doesn’t do that to me.” An uneasy silence filled the room. “Does Father do that to you?”

“Your father… he shows his love in different ways.” Narcissa traced a finger over Draco’s face, outlining his high cheekbones, his pointed chin, his pointed nose. “He protects us.”

“From what?”

-

Draco couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Had it been hours, minutes, or mere moments since he shut Harry up, lips slamming against lips? Hands roaming anywhere and everywhere, fisted in hair, creeping under shirts, pressing bodies together? Draco felt Harry’s tongue dance in his mouth before they had to come up for air. Draco noticed Harry didn’t look him directly in the eye, instead busying himself with grazing his tongue along Draco’s neck. Draco subconsciously tilted his head, allowing greater access.

“Is this-” Draco gasped as Harry licked a stripe from his shoulder to his ear, “Is this okay?”

Harry’s mouth revisited his, hastily pressed together.

“Oh, now you ask?” Harry sharply whispered into Draco’s open mouth, before biting his lip, eliciting a whine from the shorter boy. Draco’s face flushed, hardly believing that sound had come from him. However, it seemed to have a very different effect on Harry. Draco didn’t want to think the two had any correlation but the fact remained that immediately after that noise emerged from Draco’s mouth, he felt something hard rub against his crotch.

Harry pulled him away from the wall and walked him towards the bed, mouth rarely leaving him for longer than a moment here and there. Draco’s hands clutched Harry’s sides, unaware of what plans he held for them but somehow trusting him regardless. Draco felt the bed hit the backs of his legs before his fell back, Harry climbing on top of him.

“It is okay, isn’t it?” Draco felt Harry’s hands flitting under his shirt, tracing his stomach. Asking for permission, waiting for Draco’s explicit approval.

“If it’s okay with you.” Draco barely pushed out the whisper.

Instead of a response, Harry tugged at Draco’s shirt. “Get rid of this.”

What was happening? Was Draco really getting caught up in an _intimate_ situation with the Harry Potter? Was Draco really dutifully removing his shirt, leaving an open canvas for Harry to suck, kiss, and fondle? And was he enjoying it?

Harry left Draco’s chest where he’d been biting and sucking, no doubt leaving bruises in his wake, and returned to Draco’s lips. For the first time, their eyes met. Draco could swear he saw something he hadn’t before. Was it vulnerability? Or just lust? Before Draco could dissect further, Harry placed a soft kiss to Draco’s lips. Sweet, long, different from before. However, the innocence of the kiss seemed laughable when Harry rolled his hips against Draco, rubbing what was definitely an erection against Draco’s own, no mistaking it.

Despite how much he wanted to continue the grinding, and trust that he truly _did_ want to, Draco pushed slightly on Harry’s chest, causing Harry to prop himself up, detaching his lips from Draco’s. Draco looked at Harry, long and hard.

“What?” Harry breathed. Draco had never heard Harry speak so quietly. Harry wasn’t a loud person but he certainly wasn’t quiet; he never left room for hypothesizing on his opinions, his wants or needs. Except his want for Draco it seemed.

“Let me go to Malfoy Manor with you.” At that, Harry fully pulled away from Draco, groaning with a hand over his face.

“Can we not fucking talk about this right now?”

Draco propped himself up on his elbow so he could continue to look at Harry. “You need someone who knows the house. Someone who can fight alongside you. Before we leave, you can teach me some more spells, whatever you-”

Draco couldn’t finish his thought, because, once again, Harry cut him off with a kiss, this one more aggressive than all the ones before it. The grinding increased, in energy and speed, until they weren’t able to kiss at all, each of them panting deeply in the other’s mouth.

“Serious-” pant, “seriously,” gasp, “I’m going-” inhale, “the Manor-”

Harry covered his mouth with his hand before he could say any more. He pressed his mouth against Draco’s mouth and whispered, “I’m taking your pants off, is that okay?” Draco nodded, a nod so small it almost didn’t happen. Harry busied himself with Draco’s pant buttons, expertly sliding the pants off. Draco felt a hand rub his dick through the thin fabric of his briefs- the whine from earlier made another surprise appearance.

“In other circumstances, I’d be into the noise but you’ve gotta keep it down. There are other people here.” Draco thought he might as well be an honorary Weasley, with how bright red he surely was. Harry put his hands just under Draco’s waistband, before ridding Draco of the last of his clothes.

Suddenly, Draco was entirely too aware of the fact that he was completely naked while Harry was completely clothed. Embarrassed, Draco stuttered, “Maybe you should-” before frantically bringing his hands to his mouth to conceal the howl that was threatening to let loose. He looked down frantically to see Harry taking him fully in his mouth. At first, all he felt was wet heat, then he was able to make out the distinct feelings of what he could only assume was Harry’s tongue and lips. “What- what’re you-”

“Do you want me to stop?” When he didn’t hear a response, Harry looked up to see Draco emphatically shaking his head. Draco watched as Harry stuck out his tongue and traced it over his cock, from base to tip. The urge to scream was so strong Draco felt tears come to his eyes. He never imagined something could be this good- that is, until he felt the back of Harry’s throat and looked down to see he couldn’t see his penis at all- Harry had taken it all in. There didn’t seem to be much awkwardness or confusion on Harry’s part.

“You’ve done this before?” Draco released in one gasp before replacing his hands over his mouth to stifle any unwanted sounds.

Harry, once again licking lines up Draco’s shaft, murmured, “What do you think?”

Draco had never felt shame for being a virgin before that very moment. Now, with Harry sucking him off like a pro, expert hands bringing Draco closer and closer, Draco faced his lack of experience. An hour ago, he’d never been kissed- except by his mother and that _definitely_ didn’t count, and now here he was. His chest heaved, his breathing heavy, his face hot, and his body overstimulated. The next time Harry took him all in his mouth, Draco involuntarily bucked up, accidentally choking Harry. Harry came up, coughing a little with tears spotting his vision.

“Are you- I’m so sorry, I didn’t- it just happened-” Draco frantically apologized before noticing Harry chuckle. “What’re you laughing at?”

“It’s not a big deal. Just relax.” And suddenly his mouth was on him again. Harry worked at a steady space, despite occasionally speeding up and slowing down. Draco’s free hand, the one not working to keep his voice at bay, threaded experimentally through Harry’s hair.

“I’m going to-”

But right at that moment, the doorknob started to jostle. “Oi, Harry, why’s the door locked? You changing?” Ron’s voice, muffled by the wall between them, rang out.

“Uh yeah, I’m…” Harry rose from the bed and threw Draco’s clothes back at him with a quickness. “Just give me a second.” Draco was momentarily stalled with panic when Harry looked at him and mouthed _hurry up!_ Draco sprang into action, foregoing his underwear in the interest of getting dressed as quickly as possible. As he pulled his shirt on, Harry began to unlock the door. After one last look to make sure Draco was clothed and decent, he opened the door.

“So Dumbledore told you his crazy plot? Don’t let him talk you into it, Harry, it’s your deci-” Draco felt Ron’s eyes shift to him as he shifted side to side. His erection strained against his pants, and the lack of underwear certainly didn’t help in the comfort department. “Didn’t realize he was in here. What were you two doing?” Ron’s eyes squinted as he looked at his best friend.

“Um, Draco had a pretty nasty pimple on his back. He wanted me to pop it.”

“That’s not-.” Draco began to defend himself when Harry turned around and shot a look, a look that said, _just go along with it or he’ll know I was sucking the life out of your dick._

If anything, Ron only looked more suspicious. “You’d never pop my back pimples.”

Draco couldn’t help but thinking what a hopeless liar Harry was as he continued, “Well, I didn’t do it, of course. I was just checking it out, making sure it was all alright.”

Draco’s heartbeat quickened when he felt Ron’s eyes shift to him again and felt the need to add, “It hurts when I lay on my back. The pimple.”

Cautiously, Ron responded, “Well, if you want someone who’ll actually do it, Ginny loves that gross stuff. I’m sure she’d take care of it for you.”

“Noted.” A silence permeated the room. “You wanted to talk to Harry though? I’ll let you guys have the room.” Draco slid past the other two, shutting the door behind him. He headed straight to the bathroom. Once he got inside, he started to unravel the bandage he had taken to covering his soulmate mark. No use in getting semen on the bandage- Draco accidentally spied the words displayed on his palm, _Fuck, I’m still hard._

It was the second time he came in that same bathroom because of Harry fucking Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will not be another four month hiatus (hopefully)!!! Thanks for sticking with the story!


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